From Time to Time
by watercircle
Summary: Syaoran goes on a crazy time travel adventure to save Sakura's life and gets way more than he bargained for: amnesia and body switching for starters. Inspired by an 80s scifi show called Quantum Leap, but you don't need to know that to get this.
1. The First Leap Pt1

Summary: Sometime in the near future, Syaoran Li is a brilliant quantum physicist who, for the past several years, has been working as the head developer on a top-secret government project called Quantum Leap. The premise works on the theory that one can travel back and forth through time along the lifeline of the traveler by "leaping" into the body of a person in any given time period. He works on the project with the sole hope that he can go back to save Sakura, who had died in an accident several years earlier. But before the project is completed, the government pulls its endorsement, leaving Quantum Leap without the funding it needs to continue. Refusing to let the one chance to fix things slip out from under him, Syaoran makes up his mind to use the unstable machine to go back and save Sakura before the project is shut down forever. Syaoran figures it'll be easy enough— all he has to do is go back to the night Sakura dies and change things. But, as with most things in life, things aren't as simple in reality as they are in theory...

Author's Introduction: I've been watching a lot of _Quantum Leap_: an old 80s scifi show about a quantum physicist (played by the super-sexy 80s Scott Bakula) who travels through time, fixing mistakes in history. It's a _great_ show and I thought it would be fun to parallel it with CCS characters because, as it goes, my obsessions are now fighting for dominance inside my head and I'm going a bit insane. There's absolutely nothing to parallel between these two shows, but I'm doing it anyway! You don't need to know anything about Quantum Leap to get this fic, so just enjoy it for what it is: craziness. And you won't offend me if you don't like it. This is really just for my own pleasure. ;)

* * *

Disclaimer: watercircle does not claim the rights to either Quantum Leap or CCS. So there.

* * *

**Chapter One  
The First Leap Pt 1**

"_Sorry to interrupt your dinner, Eriol-sama, but we have a slight problem. Is this a bad time?_"

Eriol exhaled softly through his nostrils while keeping the soft smile on his face perfectly steady. The woman across the table from him continued to yammer animately, her long black hair swaying from side to side every time she pounded the table with her fist to emphasize every word she deemed particularly important. The silverware on the table rattled under the slight tremor, but it was not enough to cause a scene— yet.

"And he deserved every broken bone he got, no matter what his lawyers say," the woman said, her black eyes flashing. Having finished her anecdote, she began to look around the restaurant. "Where's our waiter? I could really use another glass of water..."

Eriol's smile widened in a way that made it clear he was about to excuse himself. He started to get up.

"I haven't seen him, but when you manage to flag him down, make sure he fills my glass as well," Eriol said, taking the maroon napkin from his lap and folding it neatly on the table. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, please."

The woman nodded absentmindedly, still searching for the waiter in the dim dinner-lighting of the restaurant.

"No problem," she said, waving him off.

Eriol got up, bowing gentlemanly as he left the table and headed in the direction of the men's room. He pushed his hidden earpiece further into his ear as he slipped inside the restroom.

"What is it, Nakuru?" Eriol asked.

"_How's the date going, Eriol-sama_?" the woman's cheerful voice said inside the earpiece.

"Oh, perfectly well, I suppose," he replied briskly.

"_That bad huh_?"

"She's not an altogether unlikable girl," Eriol said, sighing a bit and leaning against on of the mahogany wood stalls. "But I can't possibly see how Syaoran thought we would get along. His dear cousin needs someone with a bit more boisterous personality. And perhaps a death wish."

Nakuru laughed hard at this. "_A bit too much for you, is she_?"

"No girl could _ever_ be too much for me," Eriol said, bemused. "I just fear this one will find me much too dull. She doesn't seem to be the type that enjoys speculating about quantum theory. Anyway, Nakuru, you said we had a problem. Was that just a pretense?"

"_Oh, right_," Nakuru said, a huge grin breaking in her voice. "_Well, I just thought you'd want to know that, as we speak, Li-san is inside the Accelerator and has prepared Suppi for ignition_."

Eriol stiffened, then raised a hand to his face and squeezed his inside corners of his eyes together. "I was afraid he might do something foolish."

"_Should I try to shut it down?_" Nakuru asked. A deep rumbling noise was beginning to crescendo in the background.

"No," Eriol said. His voice was like a placid lake, but he had exploded out of the restroom and was now racing through the dining room, dodging tables and waiters as he flew past. "Any interruption could cause a facility-wide meltdown."

"_With the way Suppi is acting, you'd think that was gonna happen anyway_," Nakuru said, yelling to be heard over the background noise now. Eriol had to adjust his earpiece to compensate for the deep bass sound that was rumbling his bones. "_But Li-san said he was knew about the risks when I tried to stop him. Why is he being so irrational_? _This is almost suicide_."

"We got our letter today," Eriol said, jumping into his car and peeling out of the parking lot. "The Defense Department pulled their funding this afternoon. They're shutting Quantum Leap down, Nakuru."

"Oh..." she said, the grin leaving her voice for the first time. "So that's why."

"Yes," Eriol said. "This is his only chance. If he's going to save Sakura Kinomoto, he has to do it now."

"That poor girl," Nakuru said in morose tones that could barely be heard over the rumbling. "She didn't deserve to die. Not like that."

"Just concentrate on keeping the building intact, Nakuru!" Eriol said, stepping onto the gas like he was squashing a cockroach. "If Suppi loses control, they'll be sweeping the remains of Syaoran into a dustpan. I'll be there in two minutes."

"Roger that!" Nakuru said. The earpiece went dead, but not before Eriol could hear a sound like three or four commercial jetliners powering up their engines in the background.

"Good luck, my friend," Eriol said quietly, seemingly talking to the dashboard. "I hope to see you on the other side."

* * *

_Blue_. 

That's all there was for the longest time. Everything was blue. And not just in color. Everything tasted blue. Everything smelled blue. Everything felt... blue.

_Time is blue?_

And then, suddenly, the overall blueness began to fade away and other colors and feelings began to replace it.

Real colors. Real feelings. Not blue.

_Thank God_.

Grass. Green grass. A house in front. A car to the right.

Feet. Hands. A newspaper.

He brought the newspaper close to his face. Blotches of blue still remained, but he could at least see the date.

April 1, 1996.

_Ha! We did it! It's 1996! And I'm..._

Confusion. A twisting, yanking sense of dread.

_I'm..._

He stood up. Slowly. He was in front of a modest, one-story house painted peach with white trim. A tiny, blue Saturn was parked in the driveway next to him.

It was all very 90s.

He turned around. Slowly. He was facing a quaint little neighborhood street lined with beautiful cherry blossom trees in full bloom.

There were a couple of things that burst through the confusion right away. One was an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. Somehow, by being in this spot, he had done something absolutely incredible.

The second thing was that he recognized where he was. It was a strange, awkward recognition, but it was there. It was as if he had been sucked into a painting that he had admired all his life.

But that didn't help him remember who he was. Or the address of the house right behind him. Or his own name... Panic began to well up inside his chest.

_Now just calm down. Get a grip, Syaoran!_

He paused right in the middle of a deep breath.

_Okay, right. My name is Syaoran. Syaoran..._

He struggled to think of his last name. He rubbed his temples and tried to think as far back as he could. But all he could remember before the newspaper was a blur of blue.

_What the hell is going on?_ He turned back around to look at the house. _Is this where I live? It can't be. It doesn't feel like home. But I was just here, picking up the newspaper. I must live here. Unless I'm just some freak who goes around stealing newspapers from other people's lawns._

So, even though he felt extremely awkward about it, he walked up the steps and into the house. It felt an awful lot like breaking and entering, but the door was unlocked and, so far, no one had tried to stop him.

He entered the foyer and looked around. It looked like any average home. He could see a living room to the left where the TV was on, playing cartoons. The kitchen was just down the foyer and Syaoran could see shadows moving around inside. A tiny hallway ran down the right side of the house where the doors to the bedrooms were open, letting early morning sunshine spill against the walls.

Yes, it certainly was just like any other house he'd ever been to.

But he'd certainly never been to this one in particular.

Panicked, Syaoran was about to turn around and run back outside, but a voice from the kitchen stopped him in his tracks.

"Stop right there, young man. Just what do you think you're doing?"

Syaoran slowly raised his arms like a cornered fugitive, the newspaper still clutched tightly in his right fist.

"Listen, I'm really sorry," he began, turning around in awkward, jagged movements. "I didn't mean any trouble, I swear."

"You get over to this table this instant and finish your breakfast, young man. I am not about to let you skip another meal just because you can't wake up on time."

Syaoran finally turned around, confusion snapping violently in every synapse and making his expression twist up like he'd just slapped in the face with a fish.

A woman with shoulder-length black hair dressed in a dark purple bath robe was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, waving a spatula at him.

"Don't make me tell you again, Takeshi," the woman said, exasperatedly. "Or you won't eat for a week. Now get _over here_. Chiharu-chan will be here for you any minute and you still have half a plate left."

"Takeshi...?" Syaoran said. He whirled around to find the person the woman was talking to, because, if nothing else, he was absolutely _positive_ that his name was Syaoran. So she couldn't be talking to him.

But the woman continued to stare meaningfully directly into his eyes with a very good "I mean business" mother-ish glare. "I don't have time for this, Takeshi, and neither do you. At least make a good example for your sister and eat your breakfast, please."

With that, the woman whirled back around and headed into the kitchen, her spatula clenched tightly in hand. She disappeared around the corner of the door frame and kitchen sounds resumed inside.

_What is this?_ Syaoran said to himself as he warily padded down the foyer. He could smell breakfast as he got nearer to the kitchen. Flour, eggs, and bacon wafted down to him. _This is all way too real to be a dream, but I don't know this woman, even if she seems to know me. I think I'd know my own mother if I saw her._

He was pretty sure of that, even though he couldn't recall his own mother's face at the moment...

When he got about halfway down the short foyer, a person moving beside him caught his eye. When he stopped, the other person stopped as well. Syaoran froze and then slowly turned to confront whoever it was that was turning to face him too.

It was a young boy staring back at him from what Syaoran fleetingly thought was a hole in the wall of the foyer. The boy's eyes seemed to be glued shut in a permanent smirk. He had short, neat black hair and a pale complexion. He was wearing the unmistakable blue blazer of a school uniform.

Syaoran stumbled back a bit, and, to his total surprise, so did the boy in front of him. After a few wild moments, Syaoran finally realized he was staring into a mirror...

But the reflection there was not his.

_I have brown hair!_ Syaoran thought frantically. He reached up the ruffle his own shaggy, unkempt chocolate hair and watched the strands fall satisfyingly over his eyes. The boy in the mirror copied his movements exactly, only ruffling his own black hair instead. _And I can't see them, but I know... KNOW my eyes are amber. I can remember..._

But he was only bluffing. He really couldn't remember anything beyond that.

He could feel his mind about to explode, so instead of letting the absolute insanity of everything overwhelm him, he took a very deep breath and held it for a few tense moments. Then he let it out slowly, letting out as much confusion that would leave him.

_Okay. This has got to be some weird dream or I'm hallucinating. Either way, I'm going to eventually wake up, or I'm going to come down, _Syaoran thought to himself, happy that the rational part of his mind was still there. _So, for now, I'll just stay calm and let the dream — or whatever — play itself out._

He opened his eyes and nodded confidently to the boy in the mirror, shrugging off the creeps he got when the strange boy nodded back at him.

"Let's go, Takeshi," Syaoran mumbled to the reflection and continued into the kitchen.

The kitchen was as normal as it got. It had a microwave, a dishwasher, and a little island where "Takeshi's Mom" was fixing a boxed lunch. There were normal little knickknacks hanging on the walls and potholders dangling over the handle to the stove.

All of it was so normal, and yet it seemed completely, one-hundred percent alien. Nothing could be more bizarre, not even if little green men started jumping in through the windows.

"Nii! Nii!"

Syaoran looked around for the source of the little sound and found it coming from the breakfast table nestled next to the back wall by a large bay window. A little girl was sitting there in a highchair, bouncing enthusiastically and beckoning to Syaoran with her arms held straight out in front of her, her little fists clenching the air.

"Nii!" she said, a wide grin on her face.

"Isn't that sweet? Kioko wants to eat breakfast with her big brother," Takeshi's mom cooed from behind Syaoran. "Well, go over there and sit down before she throws a fit."

Determined to go with the flow, Syaoran did as he was told and headed over to the table. A plate of half-eaten pancakes and eggs was sitting next to the highchair on the table. And, despite everything, the food actually looked appetizing. He sat down and gingerly picked at the stuff on his plate, cutting off a piece of egg with his fork and — after a moment's hesitation — sticking it in his mouth.

_Tastes real_, Syaoran thought as he chewed carefully. _It's pretty good, too._

Beside him, the little girl had gone oddly silent. Syaoran raised his eyes to her and found the little baby staring at him with a very sour look. Her lower lip began to tremble.

"Not Nii! Not Nii!" she said, low at first, but soon she was shouting it and banging her little fists against the highchair's tray. "NOT NII!"

Syaoran stared at her as big tears began to roll down her tiny cheeks. Takeshi's mom came over to the little girl and picked her up out of her highchair, patting her soothingly on the back.

"Takeshi," she scolded Syaoran. "What did you do?"

"Nothing..." Syaoran said, staring at the baby's back as she wailed. "I guess she doesn't recognize me."

"Doesn't recognize you? Just what is that supposed to mean?" Takeshi's mom said sternly, glaring at Syaoran while she rubbed the baby's back.

Syaoran stood up and turned to the woman.

"Listen, I know this is going to sound really strange, but I don't think I am who you think I am," Syaoran said slowly, looking the woman straight in the eyes. "Somehow, you're mistaking me for someone else."

But, to Syaoran's surprise, the woman took on a bemused expression and simply shook her head. She sat the baby back down in its highchair.

"I don't know what you're up to, Takeshi, but I am not falling for it," she said as she hurried back over to the island. "Eat your breakfast and, for God's sake, don't mess with your sister. She's a little too young for your head games."

Syaoran sat down slowly, eying the baby in the highchair as he did. Takeshi's mom had managed to calm her down a bit, but she was still looking at him with an expression that clearly read, "who are you and what happened to my big brother?"

Which, ironically, was exactly what Syaoran was wondering as well.

Syaoran was just about to shovel some more food in his mouth, just for good measure, when the doorbell rang.

"Alright young man," Takeshi's mom said, pulling Syaoran's chair away from the table. She shoved a lunch box in his hands and guided him to the kitchen door. "You're off the hook for this morning. Just wake up on time tomorrow, please? And say hi to Chiharu-chan for me."

She left him to, obviously, walk down to the front door and say hello to Chiharu— whoever that was. Then, apparently, they were supposed to go somewhere together.

Syaoran took a deep breath, ran past the mirror in the foyer so he didn't have to look at the person who was _not _him, and yanked the door open at the end of the hall.

"Morning!" a cheerful female voice exclaimed. There was a girl with light brown hair dressed in a crisp school uniform standing on the other side of the doorway, smiling at Syaoran like they had known each other for years. "Ready?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Syaoran said, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.

"You know, I think they're making us wear shoes to school these days," the girl said, staring at Syaoran's bare feet. "And, call me crazy, but you may want to brings your books along, just in case you need to learn something."

"Oh, right," Syaoran said, feeling the heat rise to his face. He turned around and walked back inside to put on a pair of shoes and grab the backpack that was laying by the door. He could only hope that they were actually his.

Well, they weren't really _his_, of course. They were Takeshi's. But, because he seemed to be Takeshi now, everything that belonged to him now belonged to him...

_Whatever, Syaoran. Just go with it and save your sanity. You just gotta hope that answers will eventually pop out of somewhere..._

Because his own brain certainly didn't seem to have the capability to help him at this point.

* * *

Chiharu eventually lead Syaoran to a big, two-story school building. The welcome sign read Tomoeda High School as they entered the courtyard. 

"Tomoeda..." Syaoran mumbled to himself. "That sounds familiar."

Beside him, Chiharu groaned. "Please not another lie about the origin of Tomoeda's name, Yamazaki-kun. It's too early. At least wait until lunch, okay?"

Syaoran could only stare blankly at this. Chiharu seemed to take his silence as a sign of defeat.

"Thank you," she said, heading for the school's main building. "Now come on. We only have ten minutes left until the bell."

Hoisting his backpack further up his shoulder in an attempt to shrug off another wave of the creeps, Syaoran followed Chiharu into the building and up a flight of steps. They entered a classroom that was packed with kids mulling around in the last few minutes of liberty before the the school day began. Chiharu broke off from him to join a group of girls on the other side of the classroom.

Syaoran found himself suddenly abandoned among a sea of strange people. But, even if he didn't know them, most people greeted him enthusiastically as they passed. Syaoran waved politely, but did his best to avoid direct eye contact, lest someone tried to strike up a conversation.

After he stood by the door for a few minutes like a moron (because he didn't know which desk was his— _Takeshi's_— whatever), a young man with dark, bluish-black hair and cool sapphire eyes entered the classroom. At first, Syaoran thought he was the class's instructor because he was at least ten years older than everyone there and he was wearing a ruffled tuxedo. But Syaoran's initial speculation was dashed when the class paid no attention to his entrance. In fact, everyone seemed to completely ignore him altogether.

As Syaoran watched the strange man, he made his way to the small section of wall between the white board and the door. He settled himself, then lifted his head and stared directly at Syaoran.

Surprised, Syaoran looked away instantly, only to feel the man's eyes still on him even as Syaoran moved quickly to the other side of the classroom. Something about the way the guy looked at him made him feel like...

Like he was actually seeing _Syaoran_. Not Takeshi. Syaoran. And it was creepy.

But really now, what wasn't?

"Yamazaki-kun..." Chiharu said, spotting Syaoran's disconcerted expression as she passed by. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know," Syaoran said, lifting his gaze to chance a look at the guy. Yep. Still there. "That guy over there keeps staring at me. Should I know him?"

"What guy?" Chiharu asked, looking around.

"The guy in the tuxedo standing by the board," Syaoran said, getting frustrated. "He's kind of hard to miss."

"_Tuxedo_?" Chiharu said indignantly and pulling her arms across her chest. "You've sunk to a new low if you think I'll believe that one."

"But—!" Syaoran began, gesturing wildly at the man standing there right in plain sight.

"Yeah, yeah," Chiharu said, bobbing her head lazily. "I'm sure in your world, Yamazaki-kun, there are strange men in tuxedos standing everywhere."

The blue-haired guy continued to stand by the wall even as Chiharu — and everyone else for that matter — completely ignored his existence. For the most part, he was looking curiously at the people who passed and reading what was written on the board, but every so often he casted a very deliberate look in Syaoran's direction. And it was a look that clearly stated "We need to talk."

Chiharu wandered away, still shaking her head and bemoaning the fact that she had such a weird friend.

Syaoran still didn't know which desk he was supposed to sit in. There were way too many vacant desks to try to choose one, so he figured he'd just wait until more students came to fill in the gaps. And while he waited, he may as well go stand by the wall...

As he made his way over, the tuxedo guy's eyes fell right on him and remained there as Syaoran leaned up against the wall. Syaoran had no idea what to say, so they stood there silent while the ambient noises of the classroom filled the space between them.

"Isn't this incredible?" the blue-haired guy finally said. "Tomoeda High. I went to this school for a couple of years, you know. It looks a little different now, though. It's all the strange faces... they aren't the same."

Syaoran lifted a hand to his face. "No... No, the faces are definitely not the same."

The guy smiled. "Well, that's to be expected. But how does it feel? You must be really proud of yourself, Syaoran."

Syaoran's head snapped at the sound of his name. "Hey! You know my name!"

Mr. Blue Hair chuckled. "I haven't had _that_ much to drink."

"Why is it that you are the only one who knows my name?" Syaoran said, whirling around to stare the guy down. "Everyone else keeps calling me Takeshi Yamazaki! I don't even know the guy! How could I _be_ him?"

"Calm down," the guy said, raising his hands defensively. "Don't cause a scene here."

Syaoran turned around to see a few people staring at him. He hunched his shoulders and leaned back against the wall.

"That's better," the guy said. "Now, of course everyone is going to think you're Takeshi Yamazaki. After all, you look just like him." He chuckled again as he stared Syaoran in the face. "It's absolutely amazing."

"But I'm not him?" Syaoran mumbled. "Right?"

"What do you mean?" the guy said, his face dropping. "Of course you're not really Yamazaki... Is everything alright?"

"Obviously not!" Syaoran hissed at the ground. "I ate breakfast this morning with a family I didn't know in a house I'd never been to in a city that I've never heard of. And now I'm standing here talking to some strange guy who is invisible to everyone else! Now tell me what is right about that?"

"Strange guy...?" the blue-haired guy said, looking at Syaoran. He looked a little bit hurt. "Syaoran, are you saying you don't recognize me?"

"No, I don't," Syaoran said firmly, relieved that he was finally able to answer a question with certainty.

"And you don't remember the experiment?"

"Experiment?" Syaoran said, his heart thumping wildly. "What experiment?"

"Well this explains a lot," the guy said, turning his eyes toward the ceiling. "He doesn't remember anything!"

Syaoran followed the guy's eyes. He really seemed to be talking to someone else. But then he was talking directly to Syaoran again.

"Okay, so what do you remember prior to finding yourself in Takeshi Yamazaki's body?" the guy asked gently.

Syaoran strained his memory for the billionth time that morning. "Nothing. Just a lot of blue."

"Blue?" the guy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Syaoran said. "Everything was just... blue. It was in my eyes, my ears, my mouth... I felt like I was being suffocated by blueness."

"That's one for the journals," the guy said, laughing. "Time is blue."

"Yeah! That's just what I was thinking," Syaoran said, getting excited despite himself. "Subatomic particles, when accelerated backward or forward through time, emit a blueish-white glow on the molecular level."

Syaoran paused, recoiling from his own words. _Subatomic particles? What the hell?_

"I see not everything in your mind has slipped away," the guy stared at Syaoran. "Maybe all you've lost is personal data."

"How do I know about subatomic particles?" Syaoran asked.

"You won't know anything about anything," a booming voice sounded clearly in Syaoran's ear. "If you don't kindly take your seat, Yamazaki-san, and allow me begin class."

Syaoran whipped around to find the instructor staring down at him. A couple students giggled softly.

"Uh, right. Sorry," Syaoran headed toward the only vacant seat in the room amidst another swell of giggles.

"Okay, listen, Syaoran," the guy said, speaking loudly over the instructor who ignored him altogether. "I'm going to go back and confer with Suppi about this amnesia thing. In the meantime, you just keeping acting like Yamazaki and try not to screw up history."

And then, to Syaoran's complete and total surprise, a door of light opened in the wall behind the guy and he stepped into it. He gave Syaoran an encouraging smile, and then the door of light _whooshed_ shut and he was gone.

* * *

End Note: This is kind of a long first chapter, but that's okay, right? I just hope it wasn't too boring. But then again, I don't expect many of you to know what to do with this fic, so it's all right if you don't like it. As for things to come, expect a lot of... non-canon parings and some OOC-ness. Heh, I really don't expect many people to like this crazy fic that much, but, hey, it brings me joy and maybe, just maybe, it will bring joy to someone else. And if torturing Syaoran by making him do really crazy things is wrong, then I don't wanna be right. ;P 

Anyway, if you liked it in any small way, please review for me and I'll update sooner! Thanks.


	2. The First Leap pt 2

**Episode 2  
The First Leap Pt 2**

So far, Syaoran's whole "go with the flow" plan seemed to be working out pretty well. It certainly was the easiest and safest recourse. He simply let life tug him along from minute to minute without any resistance. He sat in Takashi's desk and took Takashi's notes and bit Takashi's nails. As the school day progressed, Syaoran dreaded the moment when he would be asked some kind of personal question that would require definite knowledge about Takashi's life, but no one actually asked him to talk much. In fact, whenever he opened his mouth, even if it was just to yawn, everyone around him would beg him not to say a word.

"Yeah, yeah," Chiharu interrupted him once when he was simply asking to borrow a sheet of paper. "Tokyo Tower is made of cheese, right?"

Of course, this actually worked out to Syaoran's advantage. The less he had to say, the better.

Eventually, the lunch bell rang and Syaoran found himself sitting under a tree in the courtyard with Chiharu. She opened a huge bento box and put it between them. It was filled with food. Syaoran thought it must have taken her hours to make it.

_Takashi and Chiharu must be more than friends..._ Syaoran thought as he stared at the food. _Even if it is a very strange relationship._

"Have some of the fish," Chiharu said, poking at the food with her chopsticks. "I tried a new recipe and it was kind of difficult. I want to know what you think."

Rule number one when going with the flow: do everything anyone asks of you without hesitation. If Chiharu had told Syaoran to jump off the roof of the school into a vat of strawberry pudding he made himself from scratch, he would have left right then for the grocery store.

So Syaoran took a piece of fish and shoved it in his mouth. As he had that morning, he chewed the food carefully as if he were afraid of breaking something.

"It's really good," Syaoran said after he swallowed, giving the mandatory boyfriend-ish response. He smiled as brightly as he could manage. "You're a great cook."

Syaoran was really proud of his quick ad lib, but Chiharu's darkening expression instantly made him think he'd just totally insulted her.

"Yamazaki-kun..." Chiharu said, shoving the bento box aside and looking him directly in the eyes with creased concern. "Is something wrong? You can tell me, you know."

"Uh, what do you mean?" Syaoran said, resisting the urge to just run for it.

"You just haven't been yourself all day," Chiharu said. "You've been so quiet. I haven't had to tell you to shut up one time yet. And this is the first time since I've known you that you actually said something nice about my cooking. So if something's wrong, you can tell me."

"No, uh," Syaoran stuttered while trying to think of something Takashi-ish to say. "I—I'm fine. Really!"

Chiharu gave him a piercing glare.

"You know I don't believe that for a second," she said finally, standing up. "And if I didn't have a cheer-leading club meeting to go to, I'd wring the truth right out of you."

She sighed. "But that'll have to wait. I'll see you after school, alright?"

Syaoran nodded and watched her head toward the gym. She glanced back at him several times before disappearing inside.

"Finally. I thought she'd never leave."

Syaoran yelped indignantly and spun around to find the blue-haired guy from that morning standing by the tree. This time he was in a fluffy white bathrobe, electric blue and coal black striped pajamas, and carrying a cup of coffee. He sipped it carefully as Syaoran stared wide-eyed.

"You still don't remember me, do you?" the guy asked, taking the cues from Syaoran's expression.

Syaoran just shook his head, his mouth hanging open slightly.

"I can't help but be insulted, you know," the guy said softly. "After everything we've been through, you just up and forget me. That's so unfair."

"It's not like I wanted to forget," Syaoran growled. "I'd very much like to remember everything, okay? So don't blame me!"

"I never said it was your fault," the guy said, smirking. "I only said it was unfair."

Syaoran glared. He was beginning to hate this guy's smug little smirk.

"That's it! That's the familiar glare I'm used to," the guy said, looking positively elated. "A couple more of those and I'll feel much better about things."

"Well, I really don't feel very good about any of this," Syaoran hissed. "So how about you fill me in a little, huh?"

"Alright, I suppose I should," the guy said. "I just hope you're ready to hear it."

The guy took a deep sip of his coffee before finally starting his story.

"My name is Eriol Hiiragizawa. I am your partner on Project Quantum Leap," he stopped and spun around. "Do you remember Quantum Leap?"

Syaoran shook his head wildly. "No!"

"Ah, well, it was worth a shot. I was hoping I didn't have to explain _everything_," Eriol said and began pacing again as he continued his story. "Quantum Leap is an experiment in time travel. It's based on the theory that every single human life that has ever existed is connected by a single string. We call this string "time" and the people connected to it are simply stops along the way. Imagine an endless thread with countless little knots dotting its entire length. The thread is time and the knots are the lives of people drifting around in time. Now, if you take a small section of that thread that has a special significance and roll that section into a ball, the nodes touch each other out of sequence and become points from which one could, theoretically, leap from life to life and, thus, time to time."

"String theory. You're talking about string theory," Syaoran said, suddenly, the word tumbling out of his mouth without thinking. He paused and furrowed his eyebrows. "Wait. What the hell is string theory?"

"This is just a _type_ of string theory, Syaoran, and a highly theoretical one at that," Eriol said soothingly. "Even I don't understand it fully. The only one who really totally understood it was you."

"Me?" Syaoran asked, the word coming out in a squeak. "But I can't even remember my own last name! How could I know about all this?"

"Because the leap has fried your brain. Quantum Leap is _your_ project, Syaoran. You were the one who took the proposal to the government and drew up the first plans," Eriol said, looking at Syaoran sideways. "And even though I designed Suppi and Kero, you are the one who made the breakthrough that brought them to life."

"Suppi? You mentioned him before," Syaoran said. He put his hands to his face and rubbed hard. "Who the hell is Suppi?"

"Well, it's not so much as a _who_; it's more like a _what_," Eriol said, a grin breaking out on his face again. "Suppi is the hybrid computer that, among other things, collects the data on any certain time period that might be useful to you."

"Suppi's a computer?" Syaoran said, his tone low and his gaze lower.

"Well, he's a very _intelligent_ computer," Eriol said, holding up a device Syaoran had just noticed.

It looked like a thin piece of plastic with a bunch of circuits running through it.

"That's Suppi?" Syaoran asked.

"Well, no, not exactly," Eriol said. "Suppi takes up most of the building we use to house Quantum Leap. This is just the device I use to communicate with Suppi while I'm in the imaging chamber."

"Huh...?" Syaoran said, his face dropping again. "Imaging chamber?"

"Right," Eriol said. He stepped back and flung his arms wide. "What you're seeing now isn't really me. I don't exist here."

Syaoran lowered his gaze. "You look like you exist to me."

"Exactly. I look like I exist to _you_," Eriol said. "But haven't you wondered why no one else has even so much as looked in my direction? Even though I hardly blend into the scenery," he indicated his pajamas, both the pattern and colors of which clashed horribly with the clean, pressed school uniforms everyone was wearing.

"It's crossed my mind," Syaoran admitted snappishly.

"That's because you are the only one who can see or hear me," Eriol said. "What you're seeing now is a holographic projection that is tuned to your brainwaves. The imaging chamber is the area that makes all this possible by receiving your brainwaves and transmitting mine. Then it turns your brainwaves into an image that is projected inside this room. In other words, I am a hologram to you while you and everything around you is a hologram to me."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Syaoran said, balling his hands into fists. "This is some kind of set-up, isn't it? What is _really_ going on here?"

"You still don't believe me?" Eriol said. "Fine."

He set his coffee cup gingerly on the grass and then stepped forward.

"Hit me," he said.

"Uh... _What_?"

"If you're so sure that I'm lying—if you're positive that your view of reality is from the right angle—then hit me," Eriol said, clasping his hands in front of him. "Hit me as hard as you can."

Syaoran eyed Eriol while that smug grin played on the guy's face. He sure was making it difficult to say no.

"I know you want to," Eriol said, grinning wider. "In fact, I know _everything_. You, on the other hand, are clueless."

Syaoran was throwing the punch at the same moment he told himself that he wasn't going to fall for this guy's head games. He reached way back and brought his fist hurtling through the air with so much force that he surprised himself. Whoever took this blow was going to regret it...

It was about then, right before his poor hand exploded with pain that reverberated down to his elbow, that Syaoran saw his arm pass clear through Eriol's face to collide with the tree trunk directly behind him. Syaoran stood there frozen for several long seconds before leaping backward and falling flat on the ground. He cradled his bleeding hand as he sat and stared at Eriol in shock.

"I've been waiting forever to do that!" Eriol said, holding his sides and laughing heartily. "You should've seen your face!"

"It's true..." Syaoran said like he was talking to a ghost. "You're really not there..."

"So you finally believe me, huh?" Eriol said, recovering. He wiped his eyes and then the same smug grin was back. Well, perhaps it was a bit smugger. "It's true. I'm in the future, Syaoran. And you are there in 1996 in the sixteen-year-old body of Takashi Yamazaki."

Syaoran slid over to the tree trunk and sat up against it next to where Eriol was standing. He passed his uninjured arm through Eriol's legs a couple of times just to be sure he hadn't been wrong.

"Great," Syaoran said, dropping his hand and looking crushingly defeated. He hung his head for a few silent minutes before continuing. "Okay, well, at least we can call the experiment a success. I'm here in 1996 in a body that's not mine, so, besides the memory loss, everything seems to have gone as planned."

He looked up at Eriol, squinting in the sunshine. "I think I'm ready to come home now."

"Oh, why come home?" Eriol said quickly, bending down to pick up his coffee. "You just got here. This is a great time period. Why not hang around for a bit?"

"Are you crazy?" Syaoran said, nearly choking on his own spit. "You make this sound like some kind of vacation!"

"Well, it kind of is," Eriol said defensively. "No work, a mom around to make you food, a nice girlfriend..."

"Yeah, and the memory of a gold fish," Syaoran snapped. "This is nowhere _near_ fun for me, okay? So just press the button, pull the lever, or do whatever the hell it is that you do to get me and my memory back where I belong!"

Eriol sighed heavily, sending a chill down Syaoran's spine. Eriol didn't seem like the kind of guy who sighed despondently very often.

"If only it were as easy as pressing a button," Eriol said, rubbing his face with his free hand.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Syaoran said, fighting to hear Eriol over the panicked thumping of his heart.

"It means that we're having trouble getting you back," Eriol said airily.

"_What_? _Why_?" Syaoran said. "If you guys forced me out here, then you've got to have a way to bring me back, right?"

"Hey, wait a second," Eriol said, throwing up his hand. "No one _forced_ you to use the machine, Syaoran. You did that all by yourself. Furthermore, you used it even though you were fully aware that it wasn't finished, nor had it been tested. We hadn't really looked into the retrieval process yet. But we're working on it, okay?"

"I don't believe this," Syaoran growled. "If I'm supposedly so smart, why would I supposedly do something so stupid?"

"You... had your reasons," Eriol said, his voice suddenly getting dark.

"Like what?" Syaoran asked through gritted teeth.

"I can't tell you," Eriol said, quickly filling his mouth with coffee.

"Of _course_ you can't!" Syaoran said, throwing up his arms and wincing slightly. He'd forgotten about his hand. "But you should. Hey, maybe if you tell me some things about myself, it would jog my memory. What's my last name? What year is it where you are? How do you know me?"

Eriol pushed a few buttons on Suppi and for a fleeting moment looked like he was actually going to say something useful.

"Nope," Eriol said, dropping Suppi and looking away from Syaoran. "I can't tell you any of that."

"Thanks a lot," Syaoran said bitterly.

"I'm sorry, Syaoran, I really am," Eriol said, looking genuinely pained. "But Suppi says this amnesia thing could actually be a natural defense built into the human brain to compensate for the trauma caused by time travel. Messing with it could do irreversible damage to you that could extend to the time line. But the good news is that you should begin to remember things all on your own as soon as your brain recovers from the shock."

"How long could that be?" Syaoran asked, wondering why he was still asking questions when it was obvious he wasn't going to get any answers.

"Well, I would love to tell you a few days or weeks, but you're floating around in time, so any table I give you will be highly subjective," Eriol said. As Syaoran slumped noticeably, Eriol quickly added, "But, if we can get you home, Suppi says all your memories will be completely restored with little to no inconsistencies. That's good news at least, right?"

"Yeah," Syaoran said. "If I ever actually get there. What are the odds of that?"

"Well, like I said, we're working on it," Eriol said, punching a few buttons on Suppi again and examining the device closely. "The biggest problem we're having is all this temporal interference."

"Temporal interference?" echoed Syaoran.

"Imagine several billion boats all afloat in a vast ocean," Eriol said. "_One_ of these boats has a man on board who needs medical attention. We have the description of the boat and the general vicinity it is in, but there are so many boats floating so close to each other that it makes it nearly impossible to find the exact one we're looking for. And that's just half the battle.

"Now imagine that this rescue is being conducted at night during a hurricane. Suddenly, everyone seems to be in trouble and we still can't find the one boat we're looking for," Eriol said. "That's what we're dealing with here. But give us time. We'll find you."

"How?" Syaoran asked.

Eriol shrugged. "Calibrate for the interference? I've already got Suppi working on it."

"You don't sound very confident," Syaoran said.

"Well... there is this one _tiny_ thing," Eriol said, avoiding Syaoran's gaze.

"What? What is it?" Syaoran asked, jumping to his feet.

"Suppi isn't very interested in calibration," Eriol said.

"Isn't _interested_?" Syaoran said. He jabbed a finger to the device in Eriol's hand. "Suppi is a computer. Computers do what you tell them to do."

"Not Suppi," Eriol said. "That's what makes him so special—he has an ego. A very big one, in fact. And right now, he says that calibration is unnecessary because he's already come up with his own theory."

"Which is...?" Syaoran coaxed anxiously.

"It's really out there," Eriol said. He took a deep breath. "Suppi believes that the reason for all this interference is the result of mistakes in history; things that happened that weren't supposed to happen or things that didn't happen that were supposed to happen... In other words, a mistake was made in April of 1996 around the life of Takashi Yamazaki that put the entire time line in complete disarray. Theoretically, if you somehow _fix_ this mistake, the interference will clear and we'll be able to bring you home."

"Okay," Syaoran said carefully. "What went wrong in Yamazaki's life, then?"

"That's where Suppi's ultimate logic begins to break down," Eriol said. He brought up Suppi and punched a few buttons. "According to everything here, Yamazaki grows up to be a fine, functioning member of society. He graduates high school, then he and Chiharu get married, and he goes on to make a decent living selling used cars. There's a little blip here when he and Chiharu get divorced—something about Yamazaki not wanting to start a family—but that's not for another six years. I sure hope you don't have to stick around for that long, anyway."

"So maybe it's not Yamazaki's life, exactly," Syaoran said, starting to pace now. "Maybe something happens in the school or around town or something."

"We've looked at that too. But even in a small town like this one, there's a lot going on," Eriol said, still bent over Suppi with his hand to his chin. "Five car crashes, two suicides, one fatal accident involving a fork and a toaster... And that's all within the next week. I'm not even including all the crazy stuff that happens inside operating rooms or the hometown bar. This list basically goes on forever, Syaoran. You'd run yourself ragged trying to find the _one thing_ Suppi says is wrong here."

"But it's the best lead we've got," Syaoran said stiffly. "I'll just, you know... Keep a lookout. If it looks like I'm in a position to help someone, I'll do my best."

Eriol shook his head as if in pity, but he was smiling wanly. "Even without a memory, you're still the same Syaoran. Always jumping at the chance to be the big hero."

"I only want to go home," Syaoran said, scrubbing his face with his hands. "You're acting like I—"

"Yamazaki-kun! What happened to your hand?"

Syaoran lowered his hands from his face to find himself staring into a couple of big, green crystalline eyes. The girl's face was creased with concern as she grabbed at her short, curled auburn hair to keep it from flying into her face with the breeze. She looked about Yamazaki's age and was wearing the powder blue jacket and black plaid skirt consistent with the school's uniform.

Syaoran felt a tugging deep in the area just below his breastbone and a sharp pang in the back of his head. It was almost like his stomach had growled, only it was his head that was craving something to fill it up and not his stomach.

"My... hand?" Syaoran stammered. After a few long moments, he was finally able to tear his eyes from the girl's face and look dumbly at his marred and bloody knuckles. "Oh, this. Uh, it's nothing. I, you know... fell."

"It looks painful," the girl said with pity. "You should probably see the nurse."

"Yeah, okay," Syaoran said.

Then, before he could stop himself, he said, "Don't I know you?"

The girl laughed a little. "I sure hope so, seeing as how we've been friends since elementary school." She started backing away. "I'm late to cheer-leading practice, but you better go to the clinic about that hand. At least let them put some anti-bacterial stuff on it or something. See you in class!"

Syaoran could only nod distractedly as the girl turned and ran toward the gym.

"Who was that?" Syaoran asked Eriol, unable to tear his gaze from the back of the girl's head.

"Suppi says she's not important to your mission," Eriol said stiffly.

"I feel like I know her," Syaoran said, his voice far off. "And I don't even know _you_."

"Maybe you just thought she was cute," Eriol said with a shrug as he punched a few buttons on Suppi.

"Well, she was really cu— That's not what I meant!" Syaoran said, hiding the heat on his face by covering it with his hands. His next words were pushed through gritted teeth. "She just reminded me of someone... only I can't remember who."

"Once we get you back to yourself, you'll be able to remember," Eriol said. "And to get you back, we have to figure out what's wrong here."

Eriol pushed a few buttons on Suppi in quick succession and the door of light opened behind him.

"I'll brainstorm with Suppi to see if we can't find anything," Eriol said. "I'll come back to check on you later. Just keep an eye out for anything that could throw off the time continuum, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Syaoran said. "How hard could that be?"

Eriol's smug smile disappeared behind the door with the rest of him.

Syaoran missed him already... But in a frustratingly contradictory way that only made him more irritable.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Syaoran didn't see the mysterious emerald-eyed girl again, despite the fact that she had clearly said "see you in class" during their short conversation. He even took her advice and went to the school nurse for his hand. He told himself that he owed it to Takashi to take care of this body. After all, he knew just how it felt to snap awake to find a huge chunk of his memory missing and his body all messed up...

But he also secretly wanted to have a reason to talk to that girl again. Instead, he only ended up attracting unwanted attention from his classmates. It turned out that Takashi wasn't really known for obtaining random injuries during the lunch break, so his bandaged hand was treated like the eighth wonder of the world.

Eventually, spurred on by his classmates' refusal to accept a mundane excuse for his hand, Syaoran created a strange adventure that kept getting longer and more elaborate as the school day progressed. By his last retelling, the injury to his hand became only a tiny plot point in the grand scheme of a much more exciting tale.

"... and then the huge spider sank its fangs into my hand, but I couldn't very well let go of the edge, seeing as how I'd fall to my doom," Syaoran said, feeling a bit silly, but enjoying the engrossed looks on his classmates' faces despite himself. Everyone seemed to get a kick out of the impossible story. "It was only then that I realized—"

The bell rang and everyone groaned.

"—that I'd have to finish the story tomorrow," Syaoran said sheepishly.

Syaoran walked home with Chiharu, which was fortunate since he wasn't quite sure how to get back to Takashi's house on his own. When they arrived, Syaoran offered to walk Chiharu to her house, but she just gave him a very odd look and explained to him that she lived right down the street.

Strike two.

"What _really_ happened to your hand?" Chiharu asked, stopping dead in her tracks on the sidewalk and whirling around.

"I told you," Syaoran said, forcing a grin. "A spider—"

"Yeah, yeah," Chiharu said, waving her hand. She turned from him and headed down the sidewalk, tossing the words over her shoulder, "I don't believe you, you know."

Syaoran stood awkwardly in the driveway, unable to move. Chiharu's last line echoed in his ear drums.

The story about his hand was completely unbelievable, so it was no shock that Chiharu knew he wasn't telling the truth about that.

But Syaoran got the distinct impression that Chiharu wasn't really talking about his hand when she said "I don't believe you."

I don't believe _you_.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Okay, young man. Your sister is napping in her rocking swing and there's a casserole heating in the oven for dinner. Take it out at 7:30, but let it cool for a few minutes before you try to eat it. I'll be home around two. Make sure you lock the door before you go to bed."

"Wait. What?" Syaoran croaked, jolting upright in Takashi's bed where he'd been effectively hiding from the world. "You're _leaving_?"

Takashi's Mom sighed deeply. "I thought we discussed this. Everyone in the ward has to take over Mina's shifts while her leg heals. Tonight is my turn."

"But who's going to watch..." Syaoran said, wincing a little when he could not for the life of him remember the little girl's name. "...my sister while you're gone?"

"Very funny," Takashi's Mom said, tossing her head to the side and laughing as she headed back down the hallway.

Syaoran got up from the bed and chased after the woman.

"But— Wait!" Syaoran said, fighting panic. He emerged into the living room and watched Takashi's Mom get her purse and head for the door. "I don't know the first thing about taking care of little kids. When does she eat? _What_ does she eat?"

"Last time I checked, Kioko—that's your sister—was still a baby," Takashi's Mom said in a mocking tone. "Therefore, she still eats the baby food in the refrigerator. Just feed her when she starts to fuss."

She started toward the door, but Syaoran headed her off.

"But what if do I do if..." Syaoran said, fumbling for the words. "if she, you know, _goes_?"

Takashi's Mom put a comforting, motherly hand on Syaoran's shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Somehow, you always do."

She had skirted around Syaoran during this time and was halfway out the front door before he even noticed.

"And go to bed on time!" she said sternly, wagging a finger at him. The door shut firmly behind her.

Syaoran stared at the door for a long time, listening to the car in the driveway start up and then speed away. He sighed heavily and then slumped against the door.

He glanced to the left to see Kioko gently rocking in her automatic rocker. However, far from being asleep, her huge brown eyes were wide open and staring right into Syaoran. And, even more distressing, the baby seemed to see beneath the Takashi facade straight to the real person Syaoran was.

Syaoran stood frozen as the girl's lower lip began to wobble like it was about to fall right off her face. Huge globs of tears started collecting in the corners of her little eyes and her tiny hands balled into fists on the lip of the tray that held her in her seat.

Syaoran didn't need to be a childcare expert to know that these were the warning signs of a major baby meltdown.

"No, it's okay," Syaoran said, speaking slowly and approaching the infant with his hands raised and palms facing outward. It was like he was walking up to a man about to jump from the roof of a building. "It's okay. Don't cry, okay? There's no reason to cry."

"Not Nii!" the little girl said accusingly. She tensed visibly in her rocker whenever Syaoran so much as moved a muscle toward her.

"I know I'm not your brother," Syaoran said, softly, soothingly. "I don't know how _you_ know that, but we're working really hard to get your brother back for you... supposedly."

Apparently, that was not the right thing to say because seconds later the living room shook under the force of Kioko's hiccuping wails. Syaoran backed away quickly, but that didn't seem to help matters much. He ended up running up to the little ball of tears and snot to try and settle the kid down directly.

"No, please be quiet," Syaoran said desperately. He felt like Kioko was wailing to the whole world about how Takashi was gone and Syaoran had taken his place. And for some reason, the thought panicked him. "Don't cry, don't cry. Shhhhh..."

"It seems to me that politely asking a baby to stop crying isn't a very effective strategy, Syaoran. Perhaps you should try getting down on your knees and begging instead."

Syaoran snapped his head up to see Eriol standing over his shoulder and peering down at the screaming baby with detached interest.

"She's freaking out!" Syaoran yelled to Eriol over Kioko. He flung his arms wildly as he spoke. "She knows I'm not Takashi! She _knows_!"

"Children up to around age eight can see you and me, Syaoran," Eriol said calmly. "It's because their underdeveloped minds are more open to the anomalous brainwaves we give off. Adults usually just filter these waves out."

"That doesn't help me much, you know!" Syaoran yelled over a particularly ear-piercing scream from Kioko. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Apparently, there's a blue blanket and a pink teddy bear in Kioko's crib that should calm her down," Eriol said, also raising his voice over the noise.

"Huh?" Syaoran said, looking up at Eriol with raised eyebrows. He hadn't really expected a _helpful_ answer.

"What do you mean, 'huh'? Go get the stuff!" Eriol said seriously. "She's giving me a headache."

Syaoran got to his feet and headed for Kioko's room down the hallway.

"She's giving _him_ a headache?" Syaoran growled as he flicked on the light in the baby's room.

Syaoran approached the crib and, true to Eriol's word, found a blanket and teddy bear laying there. He recovered from the shock quickly and hurried back out into the living room where Kioko was still trying to shatter glass with her screams. Eriol was stooped over the girl, attempting to strike up a game of peek-a-boo to no avail.

"Here, here," Syaoran said. He skirted around Eriol, pausing only briefly when he passed through Eriol's right shoulder. Syaoran held the teddy bear up and danced it enthusiastically in front of her face. "Look what I have, Kioko. It's your favorite bear... right?"

Kioko opened her tear-filled eyes just long enough to catch a glimpse of pink fur and her cries instantly softened to a near-tolerable decibel level. After a few more minutes of playing "dancing bear," she had quieted down considerably. Her big eyes watched the bear intensely, even if she was still staring at Syaoran and Eriol out of her peripheral vision. As a final act of humility, Syaoran handed over Kioko's blanket. The girl took it eagerly and, with one last half-hearted whimper, began sucking on the fringe.

Syaoran and Eriol breathed a twin sigh of relief, their ears ringing in the silence.

"See? Nothing to it," Eriol said, grinning.

"Yeah, right," Syaoran grumbled. "How did you know about the bear?"

Eriol shrugged. "Yamazaki told me."

"You were able to make contact with him in the future?" Syaoran said, whirling on Eriol for answers.

"That's one way of putting it," Eriol said, his eyes shining mysteriously. "Actually, he's occupying your body in the future while you occupy his in the past."

"He's _what_?" Syaoran said, his voice cracking.

"Well, what did you think happened to Yamazaki's consciousness when it was forced from his body? It had to go somewhere," Eriol said. "So now he's sitting in the Waiting Room while you go running amok in his time period with his body. Really, if anyone should be outraged here, it's him."

"Right..." Syaoran said, his shoulders slumping. "Well, did he say anything about what might be wrong here? Maybe he has some idea."

"Unfortunately, his memory is just as shot as yours," Eriol said, shaking his head. "The stuff about Kioko's favorite toys was really the only useful bit of information I could get out of him. And just trying to remember that was like pulling teeth. He must be really close to his little sister for something like that to break through."

Syaoran glanced over to Kioko who was still staring openly at the two boys while she sucked on the blanket. "Well, she is kind of adorable when she isn't trying to liquefy my brain."

"Agreed," Eriol said. He turned to Kioko and leaned close to her. The baby stared wide-eyed at him and shrank back in her seat a bit. "Syaoran and I are going to be visiting here for a while. We're trying really hard to get your brother back, so just hang in there with us, okay? I promise he'll be back very soon."

Kioko's only reply was to stuff more fringe in her mouth.

"And you made fun of me when I tried talking to her," Syaoran said, folding his arms across his chest.

"Well, now she's actually listening," Eriol said.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Syaoran and Eriol spent the next few hours entertaining Kioko. At least, Eriol spent the next few hours entertaining Kioko. Syaoran, on the other hand, spent the time pacing back and forth with his hand on his chin and his head aimed at the floor.

"What if there's nothing wrong with _people_?" Syaoran said, his voice tightening. "What about a power surge or a space-time anomaly or something like that?"

"_You_ are the space-time anomaly, Syaoran," Eriol said. He sat Indian-style on the floor as Kioko had the time of her life crawling in and out of his projected image. "Besides, this isn't the plot of some horrible sci-fi TV show. Trust me and Suppi. This is all about people. Only human actions could do this much damage."

Syaoran felt all the energy leave his body and his pacing slowed to a stop as if his muscles were rusty gears. The words had cut deep into his chest and sliced down through his stomach. He sat down on the edge of the armchair and covered his face with his hands.

_Where did all this guilt come from_? Syaoran asked himself. _What have I done?_

Eriol looked at Syaoran out of the corner of his eye, but didn't say anything. The only sound in the house for several long moments was Kioko's gurgling giggles.

"I'm... sorry Syaoran," Eriol said after the long stretch of silence. "I didn't mean it like that."

Syaoran took his hands off his face and glared at Eriol through narrowed eyes.

"Oh yeah?" he asked, putting his hands on his knees and leaning forward. "What didn't you mean it like?"

Eriol sighed, then shrugged. "When you remember, you'll remember I said sorry."

Syaoran opened his mouth wide to say something—yell something, when Kioko suddenly froze partway out of Eriol's left thy and started crying. It wasn't an all-out fit like last time, but more like an uncomfortable restlessness.

"Now look what you've done," Eriol said, getting to his feet and turning to Kioko. "You really need to stop being one huge ball of frustration, Syaoran. You're upsetting the baby."

"She must be hungry," Syaoran said, getting up from the chair. "Takashi's mom said to feed her when she gets cranky."

Syaoran bent down and scooped Kioko into his arms. She cried harder when he held her with her back to Eriol, so Syaoran turned her around to face the front and she brightened a bit. But she was still eying her highchair in the kitchen with greedy eyes.

"What do we feed her?" Eriol asked.

"You mean what do _I_ feed her," Syaoran said, heading through the living room and into the kitchen. "You couldn't stop a fly from landing on the counter."

"I'm here for moral support," Eriol said. "We're a team, you know. Whatever you do, I also do in spirit."

"Uh huh," Syaoran said, bouncing Kioko on his waist to keep her from focusing too much on hunger pains. "Then could your _spirit_ please get me a can of baby food from the pantry... or wherever Takashi's mom keeps the stuff."

"Fridge," Eriol said. He had pulled Suppi out and was staring into the device's little monitor.

"Suppi can tell you where Takashi's mom keep the baby food?" Syaoran asked, moving over to the refrigerator.

"Not really," Eriol said. "I'm just getting a message here. Apparently Takashi's remembered something else..."

"Is it something about food?" Syaoran asked. "She's really hungry."

"Carrots... Fridge carrots?" Eriol said, crinkling his eyebrows as he turned Suppi to a different angle.

"What?" Syaoran said, not sure if he'd heard right.

"Ah. There are carrots in the fridge," Eriol said, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry. Suppi and I are still having trouble communicating."

"Have you two thought about getting a relationship counselor?" Syaoran asked, opening the fridge with one hand while keeping Kioko balanced on his hip.

"And have you ever thought of a career in stand-up comedy?" Eriol said sarcastically.

Syaoran reached into the fridge and pulled out a small baggy full of carrot sticks. Kioko squirmed and reached out for the bag, making eager baby noises.

"Takashi's been weaning her off the baby food ever since all her baby teeth grew in," Eriol said, looking at Suppi. "He chopped up these carrots himself especially for her."

"He really is close to his baby sister," Syaoran said, sitting Kioko down in her highchair. He was quiet for a moment as he opened the bag. "I wonder... if I have any brothers or sisters." He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. "I can't remember anything about my family. Right now, it's like they don't even exist. It's like I was born in a tube without a mother or a father or siblings at all."

"You weren't born in a tube, Syaoran," Eriol said. "You have a perfectly fine, functioning family. So just let it all come back to when your brain is ready. Or, better yet, we can find out what's wrong here and you'll remember sooner than that."

"Brilliant," Syaoran said dully, handing a carrot stick to Kioko. "Let's just go out and do that one thing that we haven't been able to do all day because _we don't know what it is_!"

"Let's brainstorm some more," Eriol said, punching buttons on Suppi. "While you were curled up in an angsty ball on Takashi's bed, I was surfing the archives and found a couple new pieces of information. It's really not anything of earth-shattering importance, but maybe when we look at the greater scheme of things..."

"I was _not_ curled up in a ball," Syaoran said defensively. He watched Kioko as she chewed her carrot. When she finished (it was a slow process), he handed her another. "I was _laying_ there with my arm over my face. It's much more comfortable."

"Do you want to know what I found out or not?" Eriol asked.

"I just don't see what good it'll do," Syaoran said, rubbing his face with his free hand.

"It can't hurt," Eriol said.

"Yes, it can," Syaoran said coldly. "Too much information can be just as bad as not enough. Ever since you mentioned those car accidents and stuff... It's all I can think about! Where am I supposed to be? Has my chance already passed? What if this mistake in time is happening on the other side of the ocean?"

"It's just like you to think too much," Eriol said. "You've always been a worrier."

"Good to know that part of me is still intact," Syaoran said sarcastically, but deep down he really was relieved that, even without a memory, he was still himself.

"So _now_ can I tell you what I found out?" Eriol asked.

"Fine," Syaoran said. He gave Kioko another carrot. "I guess I'll take anything I can get..."

"Okay," Eriol said eagerly. He pulled out Suppi and started pacing in tight, preoccupied circles. "Now, there's a man in this town who has been in a coma for the last two years—"

The phone rang then, cutting Eriol off. Syaoran flew to his feet, throwing the bag of carrots onto Kioko's highchair tray.

"Where do you think the Yamazakis keep their phone?" Syaoran asked as he searched frantically in the kitchen.

"No one ever knows where their phone is," Eriol said, watching Syaoran's frantic search with faked concern. "Just follow the ringing. Sheesh. To think _Time Magazine_ named you Brightest Mind of the Century..."

Syaoran finally found the cordless phone resting on the arm of the sofa in the living room.

"Uh... Hello?" Syaoran said uncertainly. "Y-yamazaki residence."

"A true genius at work," Eriol said. He wandered about into the kitchen.

"Hey," Chiharu's voice came from over the line. "It's me."

"Oh, hi," Syaoran said, wincing at his own words.

"Have you finished your math homework yet?" she asked.

Syaoran smacked a hand to his forehead and grimaced.

_Right. School. Homework..._

Chiharu laughed on the other end before Syaoran even had time to respond. "Oh, who am I talking to? You've been done for hours, right?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Syaoran said, thankful that he didn't have to guess at what Takashi would've done. "Why?"

"I'm having a problem with number thirty-five," Chiharu said. "I keep getting negative six, but we're not even supposed to get negative answers in geometry."

"Right. No negatives in geometry," Syaoran said. "At least not until you get into advanced theoretics that have to do with the circumference of black holes..."

"Yeah, yeah," Chiharu said, thoroughly unimpressed. "Just help me with the regular stuff, will ya?"

"Right, sure," Syaoran said, marveling at the fact that he knew how to measure the circumference of black holes using advanced theoretic geometry. "Just... let me go get my book."

Syaoran put the phone back on the couch and headed for Takashi's room. He hadn't even gotten halfway down the hall before Eriol simply appeared right in front of him, startling him into some kind of martial arts stance.

"What the!" Syaoran said as his heart moved back down his esophagus. "Don't _do_ that!"

"Syaoran, it's Kioko," Eriol said, his calm face lined with something like panic. "Something's wrong with her."

Syaoran turned on his heel and raced back into the kitchen. Kioko was still in her highchair, but her thin lips were a sickly shade of pale blue and she was making facial expressions like she was crying, but no sound was coming out.

"She's choking," Syaoran said, crossing the length of the kitchen in just a couple huge strides.

"Well do something about it," Eriol said, starting to pace.

Syaoran found that, despite his natural inclination to call an ambulance or run around the kitchen panicked and clueless, he had reached a kind of zen state of calm. There was a strange confidence building within him—like he had seen and done this sort of thing a hundred times before.

Without hesitation, Syaoran pried open Kioko's mouth and looked down inside. She gagged and the walls of her throat shuddered, but she still wasn't breathing. Her little hands balled into fists on the lip of her highchair.

"I can't see anything," Syaoran said, closing her mouth. "It must be too far down."

Syaoran lifted the baby out of her highchair and, in one fluid motion, sat down in the kitchen chair, draped Kioko's over his left knee, and gave her several swift, firm blows between her shoulder blades with the heel of his hand.

A chunk of bright orange fell onto the linoleum tile just as Kioko gaged, swallowed a huge lungful of air, and began to cry her lungs out.

Beside him, Eriol sagged with relief.

"I've never been more happy that you are you," he said, squatting down to be face-to-face with Kioko. "Is she okay?"

"Just scared. She'll be fine," Syaoran said, bouncing the baby in his lap. He turned to Eriol. "I thought you said I was a scientist. When did I go to medical school? At least... I _feel_ like I went to medical school. I did go, right?"

Eriol opened his mouth to say something when a loud, melodic buzzing noise came from Suppi. Eriol glanced at the screen before leaping to his feet.

"Syaoran! You did it!" he said, pointing at Suppi's screen.

"Yes. She's not dead," Syaoran said. "That's been established."

"No, I mean you've changed history!" Eriol said.

"What! You're kidding," Syaoran said, leaping up and peering over Eriol's shoulder. He couldn't make any sense out of the flashes of light of Suppi's screen, however, so he had to take Eriol's word for it.

"Nope," Eriol said. "Here it is. Originally, Kioko Yamazaki died when she choked to death while Takashi was out of the room. According to the police report, he never even heard her make a sound. It seems Takashi took her death really hard because he was never the same after the accident. Consumed by guilt, he stopped trying in school and didn't even go to college. That's why he took a job as a used car salesman."

"I bet that's why his marriage failed too," Syaoran said. "You said they divorced because Takashi didn't want kids."

"Right," Eriol breathed. "He probably thought he couldn't be a good father if he couldn't even be a good big brother."

"So... I saved him from that life?" Syaoran asked.

"Yes," Eriol confirmed. "Like I said, history's been altered. Takashi goes to college and graduates at the top of his class. He and Chiharu are still happily married with three kids—two boys and a girl. It seems like a fairytale ending."

"Yeah..." Syaoran said. He was quiet for a few moments. "There's just one problem."

"I don't think so," Eriol said, looking Suppi over. "Even Kioko has a great life. You did it, Syaoran. You fixed everything."

"Oh yeah?" Syaoran said. His nostrals flared. "Then why am I still here!"

"Oh, right..." Eriol said, grinning. "You're supposed to be going, huh?"

"Well?" Syaoran pressed. "What's wrong? I saved a little girl from death and a young boy with a promising future from a life of guilt and depression. What gives?"

"I don't know..." Eriol said, pressing buttons. "Suppi says you must have some unfinished business."

"Unfinished business?" Syaoran growled. "Just what the hell does that mean?"

Eriol didn't answer, but simply bent over Suppi and pressed buttons. Syaoran began to pace. Kioko murmured softly in her highchair and started fidgeting madly.

Eriol's eyes flicked to Kioko. "Is she still hungry?"

"I don't think so," Syaoran said. "At least, I wouldn't be after almost choking to death."

Eriol moved in front of Kioko and leaned down to her.

"What's wrong kiddo?" he asked.

"Nee!" she said clearly. She pointed straight at Eriol.

"Nee?" Eriol turned his head to Syaoran. "Did she just call me her big _sister_?"

"NEE!" Kioko stated again, pointing harder. She looked up at Eriol with pleading eyes. "Nee, Nee, Nee!"

Eriol turned to Syaoran and shrugged.

"I'm not following," Eriol said.

"Nee!" Kioko said hotly, twisting in her highchair to face Syaoran. Again, she pointed at Eriol, waving his stubby little arm.

"Nee...?" Syaoran began, thinking hard. Then, in a flash, it hit him. "Aw, crap! She's not pointing _at_ you, she's pointing _through_ you. Into the living room."

"What's in the living room?" Eriol asked as Syaoran raced past him.

"Chiharu!" Syaoran said, grabbing the phone that had been laying on the couch. "I'm sorry!"

"What the heck happened?" Chiharu's flustered voice answered back. "Did you get lost on the dangerous excursion back to your _room_?"

"Uh, no," Syaoran said. "I had a little emergency, but it's all taken care of now. I'm sorry. I didn't man to leave you hanging like that."

"Emergency?" Chiharu said curiously. "What kind of emergency?"

"Uh..." Syaoran mumbled, thinking hard. A few moments of silence passed before he answered.

"It was that giant spider again."

Suddenly, the world turned blue. Syaoran felt a tug on every molecule of his being and the color became a tunnel that swept him at a velocity so fast, he seemed to be standing still.

He had no idea where he was off to now…

Except that he was not going home.


	3. Taboo

A/N: Keep in mind that this is a work of _fiction_ and I am not in any way encouraging young people to pursue romantic involvement with their teachers. In fact, I think it is a very, very bad idea and only works in a perfect CLAMP world.

**Episode 3  
Taboos**

_Through all the blue, there was a blue sound: wailing and whining. It rang and pulsed and beeped in answer to a call for help._

_There was a blue movement: panicked and sloppy. It stumbled and scraped and ran only to hit impassable barriers._

_There was a blue heat: scorching and raging. The heat reached beyond sight, beyond sound, beyond feeling and burned bright and loud and painful._

"_I'll change it!" he yelled with a blue, blue voice._

_He was dragged out of the blue as it began to fade away to nothing._

_Because anything was nothing if not blue…_

Syaoran blinked. He was staring at a large wall of smooth, shiny whiteness marked with black squiggles. It took him several long moments to collect his thoughts and even longer to come to terms with them.

_I'm not me_, Syaoran said, looking himself over carefully. He was wearing a white dress shirt and long black dress pants. Too clean. Too professional.

And the smell his own aftershave was making him gag.

_Okay, so here I am_, Syaoran said, taking stock of his position. _I'm staring at a whiteboard. There's a book in my hand about the Edo period. Which means…_

"Sensei? Is everything alright?"

Syaoran's heart turned to ice and froze him from head to toe.

_Sensei? Oh no… No, No, No._

He slowly turned around to find no less than twenty pairs of very young, impressionable eyes fixed on him. They were looking at him expectedly, eagerly, and perhaps a bit worriedly.

"Terada-sensei?" one of the girls in the front said again. She had short auburn hair that framed her face snuggly around two huge brown eyes. Syaoran stared at her for a few awkward moments as if his gaze had rusted in her direction before finally coming to his senses.

"Uh," he stumbled and paged through the book in his hand as his thoughts catapulted against his skull. "Sorry everyone—uh—students. I seem to have… lost my place here."

With a jerk, Syaoran turned around to look at what this Terada guy had been writing. He could read the words, but they made no sense to his mantic mind. There was a timeline marked with dozens of dates and an unfinished paragraph of text below it that contained words like "class system" and "economic development."

_History_, Syaoran thought bitterly. _It has to be history. I don't even know that today's date is and now I'm teaching history_!

"Uh, well," Syaoran said, shouting a little too much. "I think that's enough information for today. Get this all coped down, alright?"

"But what about the last sentence, Sensei?" a student piped up from the back.

Syaoran's eyes skipped down the paragraph to the final incomplete sentence:

_It was a time of much_

"Uh—right," Syaoran said. He looked around frantically for a marker to write with before remembering that he already had one in his hand.

With a few quick strokes, Syaoran wrote down what first jumped to mind.

"'It was a time of much _confusion and uncertainty_?'" someone read. "Really?"

Syaoran cleared his throat and resisted the urge to slam his head against the whiteboard.

"Well yeah," a voice said from the left side of the room.

Syaoran searched for the voice's owner and had to bite his tongue to keep from reacting when he found him.

"With all those giant waves like the ones Hokusai painted wiping out cities left and right, you'd be confused and uncertain too," Takeshi Yamazaki said, grinning.

"That's not right," the girl with curly brown hair sitting behind him said confidently. "Is it, Sensei? Sensei?"

Syaoran was too busy trying to keep his jaw off the floor to answer.

_I'm still in Tomoeda_, he thought wildly as Chiharu began shouting at Takeshi to quit interrupting the teacher's train of thought and let him get on with the lesson. _But this isn't the high school. Takeshi and Chiharu both look a lot younger. This looks like an elementary school…_

Syaoran sighed and leaned against the whiteboard with a soft thud. He'd gone _back_ in time at least five years. At this rate, he wouldn't be teaching about the Edo period—he'd be living in it.

He sulked against the board for a few minutes until he sensed some movement in front of him and looked up. A student was waving his hand in the air toward the back.

"Yeah—I mean, yes?" Syaoran answered if only to stop the waving.

"Will any of this be on the test, Sensei?" the kid asked.

Syaoran's eyes bugged. "Oh no. No way," he said, making an "X" sign with his arms. "There will be absolutely no tests. Not while I'm around, anyway."

A round of murmuring bounced from student to student until the whole room was filled with whispered conversations.

"That's right," Syaoran said, puffing up a bit and hoped he looked less like a rooster than a figure of authority. "No tests. Not for a while. And I declare the rest of the period study time. Understand?"

"Yes, Sensei!" the class chimed.

Syaoran glanced at the sea of little faces. Most of the kids looked pleased with his announcement, but the girl in the front row was still looking at him, her brown eyes tinged with concern.

Why did he feel like he was looking at the sun?

"So!" Syaoran said, shaking off the girl's gaze and addressing the room again. "Just copy this all dow—"

He had turned around to find most of the text had rubbed off the whiteboard when he had leaned against it. With a small indignant whine, Syaoran grabbed Terada's immaculately white shirt from the back and craned his neck to find it smeared with black erase marker.

"Never mind the copying then," Syaoran said amidst a flurry of giggles. He grabbed an eraser and, painfully aware that his dirty back was to the students, wiped the board clean. "Just, you know, study. Until class is over."

The students stared at him uncertainly until he sat down and started leafing through the papers on his desk and generally tried to look teacherish.

He must have succeeded to some degree because the students picked up their books and started taking notes. As per the norm when a teacher declares "quiet time," a whispered conversation in the back rows spread like something contagious and soon filled the entire room with chatter.

Syaoran breathed a sigh of relief that was whisked away amongst the noise. A lot less eyes were on him, which turned out to be a very good thing when Eriol suddenly appeared in front of his desk and Syaoran jumped ten feet in the air.

"Good morning Syaoran-sensei," Eriol said, smirking.

Syaoran gave him a glare that clearly said, _Not funny_.

"Tell the kiddos that you're going to step outside for a second," Eriol said. He punched a few buttons on Suppi and then shimmied a few centimeters to the right. "We need to talk."

Syaoran stood up and Eriol backed up a few paces. Suppi uttered a few beeps and Eriol shimmied to the left.

Syaoran had to fight to keep the confusion out of his face as he watched Eriol shuffle back and forth every time Syaoran changed his position in the slightest. Eriol looked like a burglar creeping around wearing neon lights in broad daylight.

"Ahem," Syaoran said, clearing his throat pathetically. He raised his voice just slightly over the noise level. "I'm stepping outside for a moment, everyone. If I'm not back before the period is over, I'll, uh, see you all tomorrow, okay?"

Just a few students in the very front row answered him with a distracted, "Yes, Sensei."

But it was good enough for him. He escaped from the classroom and into the empty hallway. He held the door open politely, but Eriol just gave him a "what the hell are you doing?" look and walked through the wall to Syaoran's right. Syaoran rolled his eyes and pushed the door shut with a sigh.

"Why were you acting so weird in there?" Syaoran whispered. The soft sound bounced off the hallway walls.

Eriol shrugged. "Define weird."

"You kept moving around," Syaoran said. "Like you were trying to get in my way."

"I'm a hologram, Syaoran. I can't get in your way," Eriol said. Syaoran opened his mouth, but Eriol held up a hand to cut him off. "In any case, we have bigger problems than my indefinable weirdness. Come on, class ends in thirty seconds and you've got to get back to Terada's office. He's supposed to be there during recess."

Eriol led the way and Syaoran followed. As they passed down the long, brightly-lit hallways, Syaoran felt a strange pang of nostalgia. Everything felt very familiar, if only… smaller.

"Here we are," Eriol said, pausing in front of an unassuming office door.

A melody of soft gongs signaled the start of recess. Doors all down the hallways opened and released a flood of students. Syaoran suddenly felt like the protagonist in a horror movie as he fumbled into the office and shut the door behind him.

The office was a cramped little space with a small oak desk taking up most of the room. A window over-looking the courtyard below was on the far wall next to a file cabinet-sized oak closet in the corner. Syaoran walked over to the closet and opened the door to find a few clean white shirts and pressed pants hanging neatly in a row.

"Yes," Syaoran breathed and pulled out a shirt.

"What's all over your back?" Eriol asked from behind him.

"Marker," Syaoran replied, struggling with the tie around his neck. "I leaned against the whiteboard on accident and got it all over me."

Eriol laughed. "Are you sure you don't have a twin brother who's the _real_ genius?"

"Could be," Syaoran said, yanking the tie off and laying it on the desk. "Only I wouldn't really know it, would I?"

Eriol looked at him sideways. "You still don't remember _anything_? Not even one tiny little thing?"

Syaoran opened his mouth, then shut it again slowly. He leaned against the desk and scrunched his eyebrows together.

"What is it?" Eriol said. His eyes got bright. "You _do_ remember something, don't you?"

Syaoran nodded. He glanced up at Eriol. "Yeah. I mean, maybe..."

"Well?" Eriol prodded. "Tell me."

"It was just before I came out of the leap," Syaoran said. He stared at the floor as if he could see a movie playing there. "I remember sirens and incredible heat. I think I was inside a building on fire or something because it was so hot. I was running and—and then…"

"Yeah?"

"I said 'I'll find a way to change it,'" Syaoran finished. His shoulders slumped and he peeled his eyes off the floor to look back at Eriol. "It was frightening. Frightening and… very sad. Something terrible happened then, but I can't remember. I don't even know what I was doing there!"

Eriol looked on helplessly. "It may have not been a particularly insightful memory, Syaoran, but it's certainly an improvement over a completely empty head. At least you've remembered _something_."

"Yeah, well I can't even be sure it was a memory at all," Syaoran said as he unbuttoned his shirt. "It was really vague and I didn't see anything as much as I _felt_ it. And everything was tinted blue. Maybe it was just hallucination caused by the stress from the leap."

"Maybe," Eriol said. His voice sounded doubtful.

"Do you know anything about a fire in my past?" Syaoran asked. He shucked off his shirt over his head and stood there, bare-chested. "Was I ever caught in a burning building or anything?"

Eriol opened his mouth when Suppi beeped loudly like an alarm going off.

"What the heck is wrong with that thing?" Syaoran asked, covering his ears.

"There's a message," Eriol said. The beeping stopped. "Shirt your put back on…?"

"What?" Syaoran hissed. He moved to look over Eriol's shoulder, but couldn't make anything out of the random show of lights being displayed on the screen.

"Um…" Eriol said. He tilted the little computer and squinted at the display. "Ah! Put your shirt back on."

"Wha—" Syaoran began.

There was a single knock on the office door before it swung open.

"Sensei? I was wondering—"

The brown-haired girl who had been sitting in the front row of the classroom was now standing in the doorway to the office, staring wide-eyed at Syaoran's bare chest as Syaoran stared back at the girl, too horrified to move.

"I'm sorry!" the girl cried, cupping a hand over her mouth and slamming the door shut again. The white canvas shade on the backside of the door clanked against the wood.

"Was that—!" Syaoran pointed at the door, his shirt dangling in his hand.

"Don't just stand there, Syaoran!" Eriol yelled. "Put your shirt back on and do some damage control! That was one of your students. Her name is Rika Sasaki and Suppi says she's why you're here."

"Really?" Syaoran breathed as he yanked his shirt on and fumbled with the buttons as if he were dressing in the dark. "Why?"

"I can't explain now," Eriol said quickly. "You've got to talk to her."

Syaoran rushed to the door and pulled it open. He expected to have to run the girl down, but she was still standing there with her back to the door and her face in her hands.

"Sasaki-san," Syaoran said, stuttering slightly. "I—I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for that. I'd gotten my shirt all marked up from the whiteboard…"

"No, it's my fault," Rika said, her small voice muffled in her hands. "I shouldn't have barged in like that."

"Come on in," Syaoran said, opening the door wide and stepping out of the way. "I'll leave the door open."

Rika nodded and turned around. Her face and neck were bright red, but she looked at Syaoran right in the eyes when she said, "Thank you."

Syaoran nodded and moved to the desk. Rika followed him, and to Syaoran's great surprise, shut the door once she was inside.

"You don't have to—" Syaoran said.

But Rika simply shook her head and smiled lightly. "It's all right. It's too noisy in the hallway."

Syaoran hadn't thought the hallway was noisy at all, but nodded anyway. He glanced quickly to Eriol who shrugged.

"Were you on the phone?" Rika asked. She sat down in the seat in front of Terada's desk. "I thought I heard you talking to someone."

Syaoran shook his head vigorously. "Me? Oh, no no. Um, I was just, you know, talking to the air. Just trying to remember some things, sorting things out, that's all."

"Oh," Rika said. The red was beginning to drain out of her face and she smiled. "I've never heard you talk to yourself before."

"Yes, well," Syaoran scratched his head self-consciously. He was having a hard time looking her in the face. "I haven't been feeling like myself lately…"

"Ha!" Eriol blurted and rolled his eyes.

"Have you been eating right?" Rika asked. She reached down beside her chair and pulled up the plastic bag she'd been carrying. "I have some extra lunch. Here, I'll split it with you."  
"No, I couldn't…" Syaoran said, but he could feel the lack of conviction in his own words.

It was becoming apparent to Syaoran that he didn't want Rika to leave. It was distant, nagging feeling, but it was definitely there. It was as if someone had told Syaoran to give the girl a message and he was stalling for time so he could remember it.

Rika acted as if she hadn't heard Syaoran's weak protest and set two small boxes in front of each of them. Syaoran eyed them and lifted an eyebrow.

"You packed two lunches?" Syaoran said.

Rika smiled slyly and shook her head just a bit. It was a flawless gesture that made the young girl look at least ten years older. In fact, with her perfect posture and the way she was so efficient with every movement, Syaoran had a hard time believing he was looking at a ten-year-old.

"I always make too much food," she said. "I like to share whatever I don't use myself with my friends. One of them in particular rushes out of her house every morning and often forgets her lunch…"

_She has to be at least sixteen. At least_, Syaoran thought vaguely as he watched her mouth move. _Maybe she's a teacher's assistant or she was held back…_

But as their little impromptu lunch date progressed, Syaoran had to abandon both those ideas. Rika was very specific about the fifth grade classes she was taking and their subject matter. So she was most certainly a student at the school rather than a teacher, or even an assistant. And their conversation was much too interesting for Syaoran to continue entertaining the idea that she would ever have to repeat a grade.

_Really, she should be skipped ahead,_ Syaoran thought as he crammed another onigiri into his mouth. _She certainly cooks well enough that she could make a career out of it—even at ten-years-old._

Out of the corner of his eye, Syaoran caught Eriol staring seriously in his direction several times.

"Anyway, I should be going," Rika said. She jumped up out of her seat and quickly swept the boxes off the table before Syaoran could even utter a syllable to offer to clean up. "My friends are probably wondering where I am."

"Oh, uh, sure," Syaoran said. He stood up and walked Rika the five feet to the door. "And thanks. The food was great."

Rika blushed, but retained her composure. "I'm so glad you liked it."

They stood there for a few hanging moments. Rika's hand was on the doorknob and Syaoran looked down into her big ginger eyes. Syaoran's face was burning and his hands tingled. The air between the two of them felt like it had magnetic polarity and Syaoran felt himself drawing closer and closer without any thought on his part.

"Sensei, I…" Rika said. Her voice was small and sweet like a springtime breeze.

"Yeah?" Syaoran said, all composure gone.

Rika turned the handle on the door and drifted out into the hallway. Syaoran followed as if he were floating away on a tide.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Rika said. She smiled brightly and then raced down the hall. She rounded a corner out of sight.

Syaoran stared after her for a moment before shutting the door and heading back to his desk. He jumped a bit to see Eriol standing there with his arms crossed.

"I forgot you were there," Syaoran said, grinning sheepishly. He sat down at the desk and reclined back in the chair, linking his hands behind his head. "Isn't she an amazing girl? She's a wonderful cook—did you see what she made? Oh man, Eriol, I wish you could've had some of that. It was like eating clouds. And she's so articulate! She talks like she's in her 20s—"

"Syaoran," Eriol said sharply. "She's 10."

His sentence was like a dash of cold water.

Syaoran didn't really know just how old he was, but he was old enough to be completely reviled by his own feelings.

"But… She's…" Syaoran began. He grabbed his head with both hands.

"She's an elementary school girl whose life you are about to completely ruin," Eriol said, poking at Suppi.

"What?" Syaoran snapped his head up. "How?"

"You devastate her," Eriol said. "Okay, well not _you_, exactly. Terada does. According to her file, her family enrolls her in counseling this summer after she completes fifth grade. Her mood change was ruled classic depression and she continued regular counseling sessions up through high school. By the time she graduated high school, however, she was released from her counselor's care and deemed mentally well. And then she went off to college on a study abroad program where… she committed suicide three months later."

"And her suicide in eight years is Terada's fault?" Syaoran asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Emotional scarring can last a really long time, Syaoran," Eriol said. "Especially when it happens to someone so young. Rika was never the same after Terada rejected her."

"So… where do I come in?" Syaoran asked. "I mean, how can I change Rika's future?"

"You have to stop this craziness right now!" Eriol said. "Let her know you're not interested before her feelings mature any further and you set her up only to totally knock her down."

"Okay…" Syaoran said. He sighed.

"What?" Eriol said, crossing his arms.

"It's just that…" Syaoran said. "Well, I'm not sure Terada _wants_ to reject her. I don't know… I just have this feeling. Like—like I _know_ Terada. See, I think some of him was left over when I leaped into his body. I feel this strong attachment to Rika that couldn't possibly be a part of me. I think… I think he really loves her, Eriol."

"That's impossible," Eriol said.

"No, I really think it's true," Syaoran said. He got up and leaned over the desk. "You have to admit that Rika is special. She's way advanced beyond her age bracket. And I think Terada picked up on it and… fell in love."

"Well, Rika certainly does seem mature," Eriol said. "And I guess it would take a special kind of guy to recognize that."

"It takes a special kind of guy to see beyond her age and still not take advantage of her," Syaoran said. "Terada really wants the best for her. I can tell."

"That's probably why he was so harsh on Rika when she asked him to go out with her," Eriol said, putting a hand to his chin. "I mean, can you imagine what kind of horrible things could happen to the both of them if their relationship were ever discovered?"

"When does Rika confess to Terada?" Syaoran asked.

"Tomorrow morning before school," Eriol said. "In the library."

Syaoran's stomach tightened and he groaned. "It's so soon."

"You're not actually thinking about showing up, are you?" Eriol said, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course I'm going to show up," Syaoran said. "Why not?"

"Because Rika's not going to confess to an empty library," Eriol said. "If you're not there to reject her, then no rejection occurs. Mission accomplished."

Syaoran shook his head. "What about the next time they're alone together? I'll just leap back for that time and the next and the next. Terada can't avoid her all year until she graduates elementary school. He's going to have to say something eventually."

"But turning her down doesn't work," Eriol said, holding Suppi up and shaking the device. "We've established that. She takes the rejection hard, Syaoran. You can't talk to her. There's no way to let this girl down easy."

"I need to think," Syaoran said. He put his head in his hands. "I have until the morning. I'll deal with everything in the morning."

"Famous last words," Eriol muttered.

* * *

Syaoran spent the rest of the day teaching gym (in which he supervised a rousing game of hopscotch) and grading papers (everyone received an A). 

Eriol stuck around the whole day, shimmying in and out of Syaoran's view in a fashion that got steadily more annoying as the day went on. When Syaoran was going back to his office at the end of the day, Eriol absolutely insisted that they go the long way around the school instead of passing through the courtyard from the gym. And while they went around, Eriol stood in front of every window so Syaoran couldn't see outside.

"What is it?" Syaoran asked, glaring at Eriol as he quickly slunk down the hallway to cover each window before Syaoran got there. "What are you hiding from me?"

Eriol rolled his eyes. "Why would I hide anything from you?"

Syaoran stopped short in front of Eriol who was in front of a window. Beyond the wall, he could hear some cheerleaders practicing enthusiastically from the courtyard.

"You don't want me to see something," Syaoran said. "Why?"

"You're just being paranoid," Eriol said.

Syaoran reached out to grab Eriol's shoulders, but his hands simply passed through Eriol's projected image and met empty air. Syaoran sighed.

"You aren't trying to keep me from remembering things, are you?" Syaoran asked, invading Eriol's personal space.

Eriol shook his head and smiled like a fox. "Of course not, Syaoran. I want to _help_ your memory."

"I hope so," Syaoran said, backing away and turning to walk the rest of the way down the windowless hall to his office.

"I want to help your memory, Syaoran," Eriol mumbled. "Not implode it."

He turned around to watch the cheerleaders practice in the courtyard. One girl was lifted into the air by her teammates to be on top of the pyramid. She had red hair and bright green eyes.

"And an implosion is eminent, isn't it?" Eriol asked, looking up at the ceiling.

"Yes," a voice that only Eriol could hear came from somewhere beyond the holographic projection of the school. "If Li-san were to encounter Sakura Kinomoto at this stage, there is a 90 possibility that the shock would cause a flood of memories that would overwhelm his system and his subsequent irrational behavior may endanger the timeline."

Eriol chuckled. "You know, a week ago I would have told you that Syaoran is incapable of irrational behavior. But he certainly proved me wrong." He turned away from the window and headed down the hall. "It's amazing what someone will do for the person he loves."

"Especially when he feels as guilty as Li-san does," the voice added.

"Well, at the moment he's not feeling guilty, is he?" Eriol said. "And I want to keep him from feeling guilty for as long as possible. If he doesn't feel guilty, he won't do anything stupid."

* * *

After searching everywhere for Terada's car keys and wallet, Syaoran ended up spending the night in the office. He awoke early the next morning with a crick in his neck and Eriol staring him in the face. 

Syaoran yawned and stretched. "Is it bad that I'm kind of getting used to you popping in from nowhere?"

"Have you thought about what you're going to do today?" Eriol asked. "About Rika?"

Syaoran put his forehead on the desk. "Not really."

"Good," Eriol said. "Because you shouldn't say anything. You shouldn't even be at the library. Treat it like a quarantined area. Don't even go near it. You'll be out of here in no time, you'll see."

Syaoran opened his mouth to respond when the door to his office flew open and a frantic-looking man entered. He came straight up to Terada's desk and leaned over it to stare down at Syaoran with a ruffled, panicked gaze.

"Terada-sensei, you have to help me," the man said.

"This is Taketo Ohtani," Eriol said, punching buttons on Suppi. "He teaches 5th grade Literature here."

"Calm down, Ohtani-sensei," Syaoran said. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm so glad you're here early. I need to ask you a huge favor," the man said. "I haven't finished my lesson plans for the day and I still have a huge stack of papers to grade. But I also need a few books from the library on famous 17th century Japanese poets. Would you please go down to the library and pull those books for me? I'd really appreciate it."

Syaoran cast a quick, worried glance toward Eriol.

"Tell him no," Eriol hissed, coming up behind the man to look down over his shoulder. "You can't go to the library today! Tell him your library card's been suspended, that you're afraid of books—anything!"

"I can't!" Syaoran whispered to Eriol, totally forgetting that his side of the conversation wasn't private.

"What? Why?" Ohtani said. "I thought you of all people—"

"What I meant was, I'd be happy to help," Syaoran said, managing a smile as Eriol smacked Suppi to his forehead a few times.

"Great! Thank you so much!" Ohtani said. He pulled a short list from his pocket. "There are the authors. Just pull whatever you can about them. You can probably find most books about them in the biography section, so start there."

"Okay," Syaoran said, taking the list.

"Thanks again," Ohtani said. He turned to leave. "I owe you."

"What did you do that for?" Eriol began even before Ohtani had left the room. "I thought we agreed that you weren't going to that library today."

"I never agreed to that," Syaoran said. He slipped on Terada's suit jacket and headed for the door. "And besides, I'm not going to make Terada's colleagues upset with him for my refusing to do a simple errand. It's rude and any explanation I could come up with would just sound like a lame excuse."

"But you're going to ruin Rika's life if you go down there!" Eriol said. "What are you going to say to her when she confesses? Have you even thought about it?"

Syaoran stuck his hands in Terada's jacket and opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it again. He pulled something out of the pocket of the jacket.

It was a small black velvet box.

"What?" Eriol said, his gaze skipping between Syaoran and the box. "What is it?"

"Terada must've been carrying this with him everywhere he went," Syaoran said, turning the box carefully over in his hands. "I know just what to do with this."

"What is that thing? What's going on?" Eriol demanded as Syaoran left him behind and headed down the hall to the library. "Syaoran!"

Syaoran expected Rika to be waiting for him in the library, but it was dark and empty when he arrived. It was too early for even the school's librarian to be in yet. After a few minutes of searching, Syaoran found the light switches and lit the room up.

"Maybe she's not coming," Eriol said, suddenly by Syaoran's side again. "You must've changed the future somehow."

Syaoran shook his head. "I don't think so."

He took the list Ohtani had given him and headed for the biography section. He hadn't been looking at the books long when the door to the library swung open and Rika walked inside. She closed the door quietly behind her.

"Syaoran, I'm begging you to leave," Eriol said. "Suppi's showing an almost zero percent chance that anything you say will change Rika's future. Any way you let her down, she still ends up killing herself."

"I think I know why," Syaoran whispered. He turned to Eriol as Rika got closer. "Just trust me, okay?"

Eriol's head snapped up and, for just a fraction of a moment, he looked completely at a loss for words. But the shock quickly dissolved into a soft smile and he sighed in a single puff of air as if psyching himself up for a cage match.

"I really hope you know what you're doing," he said.

Rika rounded the corner then and looked rather shocked to find Syaoran standing there.

"Sensei," she said uncertainly, managing a wane smile. "Good morning."

Syaoran felt his heart flutter and was reminded, for the briefest moment, that this heart was not his own.

"Good morning, Sasaki-san," Syaoran said. "You're here early."

"I usually come here before school," Rika said. She began to scan the row of books in front of her in a transparent attempt to look nonchalant. "You're the one who's out of place here."

She smiled and, as if smiles were as contagious as the flu, Syaoran smiled right back.

Eriol began punching buttons nervously on Suppi. "Syaoran, what's wrong with you? Your pulse is racing. The neurons in your brain are firing randomly. It's sixty-five degrees in here, but you're starting to sweat! Are you feeling alright?"

Ignoring Eriol, Syaoran sucked in a deep, wavering breath and reached into the pocket of Terada's jacket.

"Sensei, I have something I need to tell you," Rika said. She was blushing furiously and looking everywhere but up at Syaoran. "And I feel that if I don't tell you, I'm going to burst into a million pieces and never be whole again."

Syaoran kneeled down on one knee to look Rika right into her eyes. He slowly removed the black box from his jacket, but kept it concealed in his palm.

"I know how you feel," Syaoran said.

"You do?" Rika said. She choked out a laugh. "Am I that transparent?"

Syaoran smiled and shook his head. "No. It's because I feel the exact same way."

Rika seemed to stop breathing for a moment. "Really?"

Syaoran nodded. "To be honest, I knew this day was coming. And I've been a nervous wreck since the moment I came to realize what was going on." He reached out and took Rika's hand. "At first I wanted to tell you to forget about me, to move on, find someone your own age and be happy."

Rika shook her head furiously. "No. I can't."

"I know," Syaoran said softly. "You're such a special girl, Rika, and you're precious to me. I'd be lying if I said anything different."

Tears were pooling at the corners of Rika's eyes, but she managed to keep mature composure as she smiled serenely at Syaoran.

"I've been carrying this around for ages and waiting for just the right moment. Some days I wasn't even sure I had it in me to give it to you," Syaoran said. He opened the box and held out a ring to Rika. "But now I know that I want you to have this."

Syaoran reached out for Rika's hand. The tears were flowing freely down Rika's face, but she didn't sniffle or attempt to wipe them away. She remained perfectly composed and calm as Syaoran slipped the ring onto the middle finger of her left hand.

"When you've gotten a little older," Syaoran told her. "Come to me and I'll move the ring one finger over and ask you to make my life complete."

Rika nodded and drew her hand close to her heart. "Okay."

The school's chime sounded then and the librarian walked into the library, sending Syaoran to his feet. Rika flashed a smile and backed away with her hands behind her back.

"See you in class, Sensei," she said and disappeared around the corner.

Syaoran turned around and put his head against the cool wood of the bookshelf. His heart was racing as if he'd just fought off a horde of rabid dogs.

"Well done, Syaoran," Eriol said. "You did it. That was the right thing to say."

Syaoran smiled into the bookshelf. "I knew it. I knew the reason Rika was going to be so devastated was because she knew Terada felt the same way. She's too strong, too mature to let something like a rejection from someone who truly doesn't love her get her down to the point where she'd want to kill herself."

"Well, you'll be happy to know that Rika and Terada eventually did get married," Eriol said, looking at Suppi's display. "Her parents weren't thrilled with the age difference, but they consented. They are still living happily together here in Tomoeda where Terada continues to teach and Rika works at a branch of one of the nation's most respected model agencies as a designer."

"Sounds like a great life," Syaoran said, pulling books from the list Ohtani gave him off the shelf. When he was through, he headed for the door. "I'm glad I could help."

"Well, everything's been wrapped up neatly in this timeline," Eriol said. "You should be leaping any minute now."

Syaoran walked out of the library carrying his stack of books and headed down the hall to the teacher's offices. He found Ohtani's and went inside.

"Here are those books," Syaoran said, setting the stack on Ohtani's desk.

"Oh, thanks a bunch, Terada-sensei!" Ohtani said, glancing up from the huge pile of papers in front of him. "Oh, you'd better head to your first class now. The principle is waiting for you there. He wants to see you."

"The principle?" Syaoran said, getting butterflies. "Why?"

Ohtani shrugged down at his papers. "I think there's a new kid in your homeroom and since it's your homeroom, you're going to have to introduce the kid to the class."

"Um, okay," Syaoran said, feeling relieved. "Thanks."

Eriol let out a huge sigh when they left Ohtani's office. "For a minute there I thought we'd been busted."

Syaoran reached his classroom and found an older man standing by the entrance. A boy was leaning against the wall a few feet away.

"Terada," the principle said. "There's a new addition to this class."

He handed a slip of paper to Syaoran as the bell rang.

"Please do me the favor of introducing the boy to his new class," the principle said. He then moved in real close to Syaoran and whispered, "He's moved here from China so he might be a little slow. Don't be surprised if he has trouble keeping up with the other students. He doesn't seem very bright at all, this one."

Syaoran nodded and caught just the vaguest impression of a mess of shaggy brown hair before the principle urged Syaoran inside the classroom.

"Good morning class," Syaoran said to the students, his voice wavering.

He found with some disappointment that he hadn't gotten over his public-speaking jitters at all. But it helped to focus on Rika.

"We have a new addition to our class starting today," Syaoran said, forcing an awkward smile. "Let's all give him a warm welcome."

Syaoran turned toward the door and gestured. "Come on in."

The boy entered and marched right up in front of the class. He had shaggy brown hair and huge brown eyes that looked like they'd been carved from wood and then finished with a honey glaze. He stared stonily ahead and looked like the most unpleasant, cynical young man Syaoran had ever seen.

Syaoran unfolded the note given to him by the principle. "This is Sya—"

He choked on his own words and read the note several more notes before finally responding.

"This is Syaoran. Syaoran Li."

Syaoran looked over to where Eriol was standing towards the back of the classroom, blocking the view of a particular student. Eriol looked up at Syaoran with a helpless glance and a sly smile.

"Nice to meet you," the class chimed.

"Okay," Syaoran said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Go have a seat."

Syaoran looked up to scan the classroom. The only empty desk was the last desk in the last row. Syaoran grabbed the seating chart and pointed to the back.

"Have a seat back there," Syaoran said. "Right behind Sakura Kinomoto…"

The world began fading out and Syaoran felt his soul stirring as if it were struggling against an impossibly strong current that threatened to sweep him away. At the last second before Syaoran's sight filled with blueness, Eriol stepped aside to reveal what he'd been hiding.

A girl with red hair and bright green eyes smiled as the twelve-year-old Syaoran walked down the isle to sit behind her.

_Sakura_…

_How could I have forgotten you?_


End file.
